


Unmapped

by WildKitte



Series: gifts [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Character Study, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubcon Cuddling, Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, Heavy Angst, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Relationship Study, Riding, Scratching, almost forgot, post Nirnaeth Arnoediad, with a hint of a plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 10:57:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3607563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildKitte/pseuds/WildKitte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He remembers a night quite like this, long ago when Arda was younger and Sauron fairer in form and summoned with different name. Drunken laughter fills the hall. He remembers a night quite like this, when he wasn't sober and agony hadn't touched his being quite like now and nights were darker and shadows lasted longer.<i></i></i>
</p><p> Sauron reminiscences of Nirnaeth Arnoediad</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unmapped

**Author's Note:**

  * For [peikko-lapsi](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=peikko-lapsi).
  * Inspired by [This Game We Play](https://archiveofourown.org/works/798300) by [theeventualwinner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theeventualwinner/pseuds/theeventualwinner). 



> To my beloved beta and friend @peikko-lapsi  
> I love you to bits and I hope you'll enjoy this
> 
> And as you might notice there is a nod to TGWP - enjoy and leave a kudos and a comment if you like
> 
> Um, I am also aware that the style changes somewhat during the fic (not too much I hope). This fic took me a ridiculous 3 months to finish despite being so short.  
> A huge thank you to my beta @calistadracula
> 
> //edit: some fuckery with the editing sorry

 

_Mairon feels drunk._

_Drunken from fight, victory, wine and festivities. The celebrating orcs and Valaraukar are dulling into a blur, a background static in his ears and the throbbing, pulsating flow rich in his veins, deafening heartbeat about to suffocate him if he doesn't get out._

_His cuts have been attended, his blood-clotted hair cleansed from trickling gore, he feels his eyes sparkle with signs of life again, the fire being ignited somewhere inside him as his heart throbs like a dying star about to burst into a white explosion._

_Sauron raises his head to observe his troops celebrating in the great hall, dark walls almost suffocating their lights and he feels empty._

 

_The joyous idleness fills his head like wine just moments ago and he feels something prickling along his spine, like an old itching wound, a reminder,_ Nirnaeth Arnoediad _and the glorious victory warming his skin. His master's charred hands._

 

_He remembers a night quite like this, long ago when Arda was younger and Sauron fairer in form and summoned with different name. Drunken laughter fills the hall. He remembers a night quite like this, when he wasn't sober and agony hadn't touched his being quite like now and nights were darker and shadows lasted longer._

 

* * *

 

 

”It is done! The pathetic sons of _noldor_ have been crushed to dirt and trampled alive! The _edain_ have proved their true sly nature to their allies! Today we feast!” rumbled Gothmog and the Valaraukar and orcs shrieked in victory. Fingon, son of Fingolfin, was lying crushed and defiled in the battlefield, trampled to death under the _balrog_ 's feet. Not so brave and indomitable anymore, in the pool of his and his follower's blood.

Mairon was fervent, the tips of his fingers tingling with spent rage and the madness of battle, intoxicated with the smell of blood and fear. The orcs hollered, slaves brought in wine, running hurriedly like bugs in distress; there was meat and grueful songs sung and all was good and blurred to a numb nothingness as wine was drunk. Fires danced on the walls and floor and almost reached the ceiling and the blazing heat of the burning bodies was still stinking greasily in their clothes and clawed fingers.

 

For the bravest of  _noldor_ , Fingon lay dead and the rest of the alliance was scattered across the land – deceit and wrath blinding their desperate path to foul safety outside Angband's dark grip. The  _edain_ had betrayed  _eldar_ and those who were supposed to be united in the face of the common enemy were suspicious at each other and Morgoth was pleased.

And there was a fire in his eyes. Ancient flame ablaze and it was observant and craving.

 

And Mairon thought,  _oh let it be me_ .

 

And as Morgoth looked him in the eye and crooked his finger,  _it was_ .

 

* * *

 

 

As soon as they were out of sight, the nearest dark corridor hiding his master's form, Mairon placed a halting hand on his master's chest. Deafening was the silence between the two, uproar from the celebrations dulling as Mairon raised his eyes to look at his master.

And beautiful and terrible he was, so full of power and control and  _lust_ and it flamed like thousand suns and the fires under Arda and Mairon felt it burning, like the bodies they had abandoned outside the fortress. His master's gaze was searing and it was as if air had ceased to be in Mairon's lungs.

”Master, I...” There was a halt, a pause to his request and he knew not how to continue.

” _Speak up, little one._ ” Rumbling and low, cold like winter yet not withering his desire. He felt the courage, no, _audacity_ in his heart and spoke up:

”I – master, it must be the wine.” Another pause and Mairon swallowed. ”Master, I feel – I feel bold and fearless.”

And master looked unto him and smiled.

” _I see, little one. Shall we be shameless tonight, then?_ ”

A shuddering breath, Mairon felt himself being made undone, under his master's stare and he grasped master's hand.

The  _maia_ was going to go mad with hunger.

 

Undisturbed, hurriedly, they raced to the master's chamber like children, hand in hand, pausing on the way to grasp at each other's bodies and hold each other in the dark hallways; heated, wet kisses were exchanged between the two and slow was their going though they with haste moved. It was like blood and exhaustion and high was being washed away with passion and want and Mairon wanted it to last forever, let this night be an eternity and this pathway never stop.

As all paths do, this also came to its end on the threshold of master's chamber. Melkor shoved him in the room and as he followed, pushed Mairon Melkor against the door, slamming it shut; and master was willing.

Thrill of power flowed through Mairon and in that moment a strange spirit possessed him and he crushed his lips hard against his master's own and with equal greed answered Melkor to his kisses, tongue sliding past Mairon's lips to his mouth and at the contact with his own he moaned breathily in Melkor's mouth, shuddering with want.

”I – want it – off”, he hissed in between kisses and grabbed at his master's clothing, stripping his upper half with haste and again master just followed with curiosity and amusement as Mairon acted blinded by power and desire to dominate and destroy.

 

Dark were master's chambers, for black was his bed and covers, only the flame of the candles, lit with magic, threw dim reflections to the walls and here master dreamed his terrible nightmares and plotted horrible schemes and here was where he often fucked Mairon senseless, in heat or cruelty, and not all memories of that bed were pleasant or tender – but they weren't supposed to, for such was their strange affair, this twisted love that drove them to each other, since master had lured beautiful Mairon fire in his eyes to the darkness and harnessed him to the powers of evil.

 

And what was left of Mairon's heart then, cried in joy as he led Melkor to his very own bed and mounted him, coming to rest on his lap as he pushed Melkor down with his hand, not hard for his power was nothing compared to one of  _valar_ . But master descended passively on his bed, waiting for the next move.

And as Melkor lay there, Mairon stopped to watch him. Something inside him sank in fear, lust and anticipation and he halted. Master was great, in strength and he was beautiful to his most loyal servant, for the darkness of his hair and gold flashing alive in his eyes awoke all this odd turmoil inside him.

 

Then Melkor reached up with his hand to cup Mairon's face and with his thumb caressed he his lieutenant's face as his claw scratched a white stripe under his eye.

” _What is it, little one?_ ”

Mairon cradled his master's hand tentatively and spoke to his palm.

”I want you.”

” _Then show me, Mairon_.”

Mairon slid his hand down Melkor's arm to his shoulder, to his neck, and then put pressure upon his windpipe. Not to choke yet. Only to threaten, to excite.

”I want all of you.”

And master smiled in a wide, sharp grin.

 

There was a pause. Mairon took a breath and he pushed down.

Melkor gasped his grin widening.

_Ahhh. Like that, little one_ .

He swallowed under Mairon's palm, the movement under Mairon’s grip exciting him and Mairon pushed down harder and a shattered laugh escaped from his master. Mairon felt his other hand trembling on master's chest. A heat pooled in his stomach and travelled down somewhere lower and became raw and wild.

The little power that he possessed in his fingers – it would be so seemingly easy to crush master's windpipe and shatter his throat into a bubbling fountain of blood. He caressed Melkor's throat with his thumb, pressing down on his false pulse and feeling it slow down he sipped air through his teeth and leaned down. He grazed Melkor's lips with his own as master's eyes became hooded and distant and Mairon loosened his grip.

 

And master gasped again, rasping a husky laugh. He breathed darkness in Mairon's mouth and he was intoxicated with lust.

” _Weren't you supposed to show me?_ ” Master's mockering voice slithered between his teeth and master nipped his lower lip playfully, looking up at him passively, as if unshaken by Mairon's actions. ” _Surely you can do better. Haven't your hands been dirtied with blood before?_ ” Melkor cocked his head. ” _Are you afraid, little one? Of your own, pathetic jealousy for power? What are you worthy –_ ”, master snickered,” _if you can't even kill me, you whore?_ ”

Gold flashed in his eyes again and Mairon felt blush creeping up his neck.

” _Fuck me, darling_.”

 

And with a growl Mairon pressed his hand on his master's throat and pushed down, gripping master's throat until his knuckles whitened.

”Be quiet.”

Master laughed until he couldn't.

The shivers dribbling down his spine reminded him of ashen battlefields and frozen, cold-eyed bodies and the taste of death on his tongue – the heat in his crotch made him grind down hard as master's laugh was dying on his dry lips. Mairon leaned down, licked a suggestion on his master's lips and then let his tongue penetrate Melkor's half-open mouth, licking inside his mouth.

Circling his hips slowly on master's hardening dick, Mairon tasted fear and anger, his desire building.

He wanted to take this cock in his mouth and savor, lick and suck and milk his master empty, to scrape with his teeth just on the edge of pain and hear master's ragged breaths, how his master's charred, beloved rough hands would pull at his golden hair and tug so deliciously, cradle his skull and pull too hard and gag him, his stiff and full cock choking him and leaking salty, sour come down his throat, arching his spine with pleasure and Mairon wanted to be filled to the point of abundance.

And so he told his master, who dragged in wheezy vile breaths under his touch, and felt powerful.

 

Hastily he released his grip.

The wanton gleam in master's eyes made him swallow and to his master's panting, open lips he pressed a lingering, almost tender kiss in its bite – for a coward Mairon was and he could never violate his master as his master could him.

He then slid down his tongue along master's neck, biting at his jaw, and Melkor raked his claws along his back, tearing off the tunic Mairon still had on, shredding the fabric apart. Mairon hissed, annoyed, and Melkor snickered, scratching red lines to his pale back. It stinged and Mairon bit down to his collarbone.

”I want it.”

” _Go on then._ ” Master sounded almost bored. Mairon felt embarrassed and nodded pitifully. His cheeks burning, Mairon hauled himself down on Melkor's torso, licking and nipping down his skin. Master rubbed indifferent circles with his charred fingers on Mairon's back, the rough skin carding irritatingly and occasionally pressing with his claws, as if to remind Mairon of his bite.

 

At his crotch Mairon halted.

Warmth still spreading on his cheeks he kneaded master's clothed cock tentatively, as if to see if the heat was still there. Master breathed heavily through his nose and Mairon swallowed, his own prick stirring again with interest.

He'd done this before. So many times, quickly under a table surrounded by other captains, slowly while master sitting on his iron throne, tears running down his face as his mouth was pried open by a ring gag and shackles restraining his wrists, biting to his skin. He had gagged on the tip of this cock and milked it dry to the last, salty drop, he had shivered as splashes of cum decorated his pretty face, drying into a sticky mask.

He swallowed again.

Hands, slightly trembling, reached to the strap imprisoning master's impressive, half-hard erection. Climbing down from Melkor's lap to the floor, Mairon raised his eyes from the bulk under his hands to the golden stare of his master and he hoped he didn't look too desperate. The strap gave in to his fingers, opening neatly and there – bare skin.

 

Mairon ran his fingers on master's pelvis, not really a touch, but a graze. He had an urge to nibble at the hip, just to get to feel the bone between his teeth, but he was already hungry for some more.

No words needed, just a quick glance up to his master and he freed master's cock, already flushed pink, and went down.

 

* * *

 

 

_Sometimes, when hiding in the dark realms of Middle-Earth, Sauron touched himself and thought of the vala of the darkness._

 

* * *

 

 

He licked at the tip, as if testing, and huffed at the warmth against his tongue. He wrapped his lips around the tip, Melkor made a grunt at that, and went down an inch, lubricating the head with his tongue and felt the end of a vein on the shaft. He glanced up again, his master locking eyes with his and smiling down on him, a not-smile that was only visible at the slightest tug at the corner of master's mouth.

Mairon started taking the cock further in his mouth. His mouth felt full and he felt loved as he entwined his fingers around the base and started pumping there in an irregular rhythm – still sinking lower, slowly, on his master's prick until its head pressed against his throat and he made a low, whimpering noise at the contact and master's breathing ragged a bit. Mairon licked the underside as he started bobbing his head languidly, tasting every single bit he could reach, enjoying the slick texture of the skin, the musky scent and he curled his fingertips in the curly hair at the base. Closing his eyes, he felt little precome leaking saltily on his tongue, licking it around the tip and saliva dripping grossly between his lips, running down the shaft.

 

His master was by no means loud. He wouldn't moan or whimper pitifully, his pleasure wasn't noisy nor earthly. He would, at times, grunt an approval, occasionally a long, satisfied sigh to express his approbation. He would acknowledge, but never give in.

So Mairon made noise in his stead. He slurped shamelessly as he ran his tongue along master's prick, whined in the middle of his privileged pleasure as the tip of the cock nudged at his throat once more and gasped loudly as he came up for air. He licked his lips and flashed a toothy grin at his master and as he engulfed master's length again, the maia hollowed his cheeks and hummed – and as he did so, he felt the shivers running up master's spine, the way his sound vibrated the stiffness in his mouth and there it was.

_A sigh._

 

Melkor's charred hand suddenly slid between his locks and tugged and Mairon yelped around the cock he was currently focusing on sucking. Master's grip was strong and guided him further on his member, lifting his hips slightly to meet the rhythm Mairon had adjusted to and started slowly fucking his mouth. A silent, breathy groan escaped the maia's lips but no mercy was granted as Melkor stepped up his pace, cock sliding in and out between Mairon's tightened lips, precome sliding, juicy and thick, down his throat and Mairon gagged, gacking and blowing air nervously out of his nose, small tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

Another hand tangled in his hair and pulled him further down, master's cock filling his mouth and semen his throat, and master growled, the shadows of the dark chamber darkening even more as Mairon's master descended further into his pleasure. Mairon tried to pull away, to scratch at master's thighs, to get even a gasp of air and the tears started running down his cheeks involuntarily. Master was now panting heavier and plummeting Mairon's head down his cock; no mercy, nothing gentle. It wasn't supposed to be. This was master getting his satisfaction and Mairon had to ride along, his own cock hardening painfully in his pants, excited for the brash punishment and it made him feel ashamed.

 

Mairon closed his eyes and tried to dull the pain of the thickness ramming inside his mouth, as master suddenly yanked at his hair and pulled him off with a swift, elegant move. Mairon gasped, panted, voice hoarse as he moaned out of relief and master bent down to kiss him, prying an opening to his mouth with his cursed silver tongue and Mairon obliged, sinking back to the false-security of master licking at his mouth.

” _Don't get cocky_ ”, master hushed against his lips and pulled Mairon unceremoniously on his lap.

 

Mairon nodded belatedly, feeling his sore throat with his fingers, and swallowed, blinking the pathetic tears off his eyes and then raised his head to look master in the eyes. The darkness ceased to tease their shadow casted on the bed of their tangled form and Melkor gave him time to adjust to breathing for a while, hands roaming on his waist, nails scraping the naked skin, leaving deliciously flaming red markings on the pale skin of his subject, like the rivers of blood running down the battlefield on Thangorodrim's doorstep.

Mairon's fingers had descended on master's bare chest, travelling on the pectoral muscle and kneading around the areola and retreating up again. Part of him rejoiced to draw such a brutal reaction out of master and the rest of him feared. Feared, fingertips shivering as he mapped master's skin, something wrenching in his gut as terror lurked at the back of his head – but he looked back at his master's eyes and didn't back off. He could still taste master in his mouth, both his tongue and cock, and he felt like gagging again. Humiliation and the anger at its trail gnawed at his gut and he leaned his head against master's shoulder.

 

” _No need to be angry, little one._ ”

”Mmh.”

” _Did you hear me, Mairon?_ ” master grumbled and Mairon felt the vibrations at his throat, nosing at the dip between master's neck and shoulder, nuzzling his face against the relaxed muscles.

”I heard you, my lord”, he murmured. ”I'm not angry.” And he wasn't, not really. There was no point in anger, no need for blood to flush on his face in shame – this was for pleasure. It wasn't about power and control.

 

_(Except for the part that it was.)_

 

Yet the painful assemblage of blood in his crotch teased him again and master's fingers ran down to tease his waistband, tugging it down inch by inch. Mairon wiggled his hips, ground down to ease the pressure pushing against his abdomen. His golden hair fell down like a veil hiding his face as he raised his oddly weary head and nibbled at master's jaw languidly, as if awakening his lust again, kindling the waning flame ablaze.

It was itchy, it was suffocating, it was...

Melkor tugged his trousers down with a swift move and as Mairon felt his cock braze the cool air, his mind halted, thoughts stopped and rationally made its hasty escape.

 

” _So sweet earlier, you were... You wanted to milk my earthly form dry and savor me whole?_ ”, master licked at his ear and Mairon hissed. ” _One of these days you'll talk yourself to death, little one_.” A grim chuckle echoed in Mairon's head as master bit the lobe and sucked toothily.

”Not a bad way to go”, Mairon sighed and this time a breathy laugh escaped master's lips. His charred, calloused hands tightened their grip on Mairon's fair waist, the rough texture raking against his skin, scratching just right, and the maia buckled his hips unconsciously, grazing master's once still-erect length and they both sighed in contentment.

”I want ride you.”

” _Do._ ”

 

Mairon swallowed and closed his eyes briefly; opening them then leisurely, like a big cat waking from its slumber on a boiling day. He positioned his knees on the mattress, now sitting in master's lap, their cock's flush between their bodies. Biting his lips, he buckled forward almost involuntarily and tangled his fingers in master's raven-black hair, raking his claws against the scalp. Master groaned, turning his head to bite at his arm, clavicles sinking painfully in the skin and Mairon hissed, leaning his forehead against master's. Master then sucked hard at the bruise, sharp tongue licking at the sensitive skin, snaking between his lips and Mairon gasped a moan, still gliding their cocks against each other, the friction making him pant pathetically.

He raised his other hand resting from master's shoulders and guided the fingers on master's face, tracing his lips softly, looking master in the eye.

”Open your mouth.”

A smile tugged at the corner of master's mouth and with a mocking compliance, he opened his mouth and Mairon slid his index and middle finger in, probing master's tongue.

”Suck.”

The curt, arrogant order made master chuckle and Mairon tried to ignore the warmth underneath his skin, but as master sealed his fingers between his lips, Mairon let out a silent cry, overwhelmed by a feeling he usually felt on the battlefield, as his troops slaughtered elflings without mercy, chanting his cursed nickname and the screams of the puny beings daring to defy them made him shiver. Master suckled at his fingers, playing between the spaces with his tongue and swirling the muscle around his fingertips. Mairon started pushing the fingers further in master's mouth, pushing them in and scraping master's throat, earning a reluctant moan, and then pulling them all the way out leisurely. A trail of spit connected Mairon's fingers and his master's lips and as the string broke, Mairon brought the fingers to his mouth and tasted master on his fingertips.

His voice cracked as he cast a spell with black language and the sticky saliva transformed slicker and slippery like oil.

 

Melkor didn't comment but a flash of amusement flickered in his eyes. Mairon glared at him, a red hue covering his cheeks, and then guided his fingers to his rear.

 

More often than not, Mairon did not have time to prepare himself. Usually Melkor just grabbed him, took him away to some dark chamber under the main hall and fucked him raw and painful. He was almost used to the throbbing of his inner muscles and the agony as he limped in the halls the following morning. He wasn't used to tenderness; he was used to a dull white pain and the fear of  _this time_ actually tearing apart. While in Tol Sirion, the nights had grown long and dull and he had touched himself, entertaining himself with reminiscence of his master, running his fingers along his lonely body. He had mapped parts of his skin he remembered master had explored and then went further, brought himself to the brink with only his fingers stroking the weak point inside him (a truly bittersweet trick from Eru, to put such a delicate and sensitive spot there).

Now he shoved his fingers in without thinking too much, two at once for he was impatient and the heat boiling in his stomach could not take any more teasing. Mairon groaned and ground down on his fingers, slick inside him, scissoring himself hastily.

Master watched him with a possessive gleam in his eyes, his hands still on Mairon's hips, thumbs circling rough round patterns against skin. Mairon leaned back, put more weight on his legs and sank deeper on his fingers, panting impatiently, his head thrown back and golden hair flowing down his bare back, dulled in the void of light.

Master breathed silently through his nose and keeled closer to Mairon's chest and took one perched, dark nipple between his teeth and nibbled carelessly, without breaking eye contact. Mairon growled, his grip in master's dark hair tightening, bringing his face closer to his toned chest.

 

The maia's fingers halted, then started moving again with a slower rhythm as master's oddly patient fingers circling around his waist moved to rub at his lower back, easing the stretch of his rear. One more time master nibbled at his nipple, lapping around the areola wetly, before moving to the other nipple and pouring it with the same kind of thorough attention as the other and Mairon gasped, slipping in a third finger, lubricating his hole until it was dribbling with oil trickling down his thighs.

His neglected cock leaked precome on master's, still flush skin to skin and painfully hard, and he felt master twitch with interest. Mairon needed friction, he lusted to open the knot tied tightly around his gut. Melkor's tenderness intimidated him, the sweet and patient touches against his skin; and he wanted no more of that, he wanted it raw and honest, no secret thoughts gnawing inside his head.

”Enough”, Mairon snapped hastily and pulled his fingers out with a sudden gasp. Melkor dragged his lips off Mairon's pert and damp nipple with a pop, raising his brows.

” _Enough?_ ”

”I want, ah...”, Mairon swallowed and exhaled as master's left hand curled around his fiery locks. ”I'm going to fuck you now.”

” _Fuck me, hm? We shall waste no time then, shall we, little one?_ ”

With a yelp Mairon was lifted up on Melkor's lap as Melkor positioned his length at the maia's rear, growling.

” _Take me then_.”

 

Blunt, white pain flashed in his eyes and Mairon cried out, he was full and stretched and broken beyond repair. He sank to the hilt, lubricant easing the penetration only by a fraction and when Melkor, grunting, snapped his hips up, closing the remaining distance between them, Mairon let out a pathetic wail and cursed under his breath.

He lifted his hand on master's shoulder, still slick with oil, and the other remained tangled in his hair, tugging at the scalp and he sank his nails down to master's skin. He clenched around Melkor's cock, earning an earthly, low moan and Mairon flashed a sharp grin full of teeth.

”Got you”, he hissed and slid up on Melkor's cock only to slam down with force, dragging a grunt out of them both. Slowly, slowly, he got again to the tip, almost slipping out, and snapped his hips down again, balls slapping against master's skin.

Mairon's breath hitched and master looked at him, lowering himself back against the mattress, eyes savoring his body, breathing heavily and silent, guttural groans breaking the silence apart from the skin slapping against skin.

 

He felt the magma pulsating in his veins move, droplets of pleasure overflowing from his open mouth, fire dribbling down his face as his flaming gold hair stuck to his sweaty skin. Melkor's fingers on his skin were like a blue fire burning in his charred fingertips as he caressed his hips, roaming up to his chest and rubbing at the nipples, sighing black words and silk-like praises. The sweet stretch of his muscles as his thighs tensed with restraint, abdominals fluttering as heat nested in his gut, liquefied lust leaking from the tip of his cock.

Mairon covered master's hand on his nipple, teasing and pulling and pinching with a sharp claw, moaning as the sensitive skin fed his hunger, fingers rough like charcoal teasing him. Mairon felt Melkor's body shiver as he tightened once again, biting back an answer for the tease, circling his hips to increase the friction, looking for the prostate of this fake body, his spirit already up in the starry sky mocking his earthly form, high from pleasure.

 

Throwing his head back to touch the shadows, Mairon pounded on master's member, breaths irregular and hard, moaning loudly as the length rubbing inside him found the sweet spot that made his toes curl and skin prickle with lightning. Master took his hips and snapped up, torturing the bundle of nerves with harsh and continuing contact. The maia brought his hands to his leaking erection and whimpered at the contact.

He felt good, he felt amazing and power pulsing from his heart to all over his body. And his soul got greedy and wanted more.

 

”Stop”, he commanded out of breath. “Stop!”

If anything, the hands on his hips gripped tighter and Mairon felt master’s member stiffening inside him, as if aroused from his helplessness. Mairon whimpered, scrunching his brows together in both pleasure and anger, feeling rage slowly burning inside him. The room suddenly felt suffocating, with all the miscellaneous sounds, skin slapping against skin, his own wailing moans and master’s curses and the quiet hum of Thangorodrim; the stone breathing and writhing around them as the shadows grew longer.

“I said stop”, Mairon hissed through his teeth and ripped master’s hands from his hips and forced them with surprising ease above master’s head to the bed of his raven hair. Both heaving heavily and partially surprised by the interruption, Mairon used the opportunity to lean forward and whisper a spell to bind master’s wrists together. The magic swam through the air, descending its dark threads around master’s hands, Melkor watching the occurrence with gleaming eyes and he slowly looked up at his _maia_. Mairon swallowed, his eyes tightly on master’s, and he sat back, letting a stuttering breath escape his mouth as master’s thick member moved inside him.

“I said stop”, he repeated once more, voice thick and low.

 

He rolled his hips tentatively, still watching Melkor under him, hands obediently, obscurely, still above his head, as if threaded to the mattress itself. A trickle of sweat shimmered on master’s upper lip, hair damp and rough – Mairon rolled his hips again, sighing and closing his eyes briefly as he accidentally brushed his prostate.

He wanted it all. The  _maia_ knew he sailed on dangerous waters, his master gazing him with hooded eyes and foul patience. But he wanted. So he rose up from Melkor’s cock, halfway, and slammed back, his thighs already trembling with the awkward angle, skin moist and cool. The fire within him pledged allegiance to the desire, his burning muscles and dribbling black goo of ugly greed, clenching his rear around master and stealing a sigh from master’s lips that he leaned down to kiss, claim his with a scrap of teeth. He picked up a speed to satisfy himself, angling himself for master to hit his prostate, golden flaming hair sticking to his neck and back.

 

He kissed, and his kisses were fervent and hungry as master’s were passive and unresponsive, his moans and whimpers like of a wild animal and shamelessness running down his spine, two figures moving in the shadows and Mairon wanted to claim ownership to his master’s skin. Master sighed, snapped his hips up occasionally only to be bitten as a punishment, only for his ebony hair to be pulled at and if a smirk dangled on his lips, his arrogant servant did not catch it through the haze of pleasure.

 

“Am I not”, Mairon choked, “am I not special?

 

“Am I not the one riding you while you lie there unresponsive? Am I not the one you chose for your pleasure, am I not the one who had you laughing like a being of light? Am I not the _one_ , am I not the one who warms your empty sheets during nights and whom you kiss goodbye to battle?

“For I see, master, I see through your darkness to its filthy core. You are so much more than they could ever imagine and here I am, claiming you mine. You belong to me, all of your schemes and mischief, a wretched _maia_ , a servant of the _vala_ – and as I observe, I see you _soft_. You have been weighed, you have been measured, and you have been found _wanting_.

“So am I not special, master, am I not the one?”

 

And he sighed and master’s claws scraped painfully against his skin.

 

* * *

 

 

_For his defense, he was._

 

* * *

 

 

As soon as he felt the charred hands upon his skin, Mairon knew.

He knew this pulse of anger and lust for violence and humiliation crippling down his spine.

 

A snap, a crack in the shell.

 

“ _Little one_ ”, master whispered and threw him over, slipping out of him, on him, turning him around and pushing against the cool sheets.

“ _Little one, you need to watch your tongue._ ”

 

Black words pouring from his mouth, dribbling on his sweaty skin and Mairon yelped, pain pulsing all over and he squirmed, panting, panic rising, master on him, turning him over, binding his hands like he had mere moments ago, master  _on him_ , whispering magic in his ear, thrusting in, dry and resisting and Mairon bit back a cry,

 

He will not scream

He will no _t scream_

_He will not scre_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He surfaced with a shout.

The shadows were hanging low like a blanket around him, coaxing him back to the sweet world of nothingness, the comfort of sleep – Mairon took in a sharp breath and raised a shaking hand to his sweaty forehead, still tasting blood on his tongue. Pain blooming in his body, he sat up hesitantly, eyeing around to understand where he was exactly. Black sheets, dark room and a body lying next to him, the stench of sweat and bodily fluid,  _sex_ , in the air and a hard lump formed into Mairon's throat and he couldn't swallow past it and he felt his breath hastening and he had to get out, he had to get out somehow because he was afraid, why was he afraid?

“ _You're awake, little one_ ”, a deep voice boomed next to him and a hand appeared on his shoulder and pulled him down, back to the mattress. Master leaned on his other hand and his long raven hair descended upon his godly figure, his form now hovering over Mairon's exhausted body.

“Master--” he began, his voice faltering at the syllables trying to escape from his tongue, but he was interrupted with a soft, almost lingering kiss.

“ _Shh, little one_ ”, master whispered against his lips and Mairon shuddered. “ _Rest. You have had punishment enough._ ”

“I will not defy you”, Mairon mumbled and master's charred fingers found his cheek and caressed his skin softly, tenderly. “I'm sorry, I-- I got too excited, I forgot myself...”

“ _It has all been taken care of, little one. Sleep._ ”

And master draped his body around Mairon, shaking and fighting back tears of humiliation.

 

Finally, sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

_He remembers a night quite like this, filled with wine and laughter. He remembers when shadows were longer and his trembling body weaker in will._

_He remembers and he says:_

“ _We shall feast.”_

_For now his body is cold and ugly, aching for the touch of scarred hands, parts of bodies left unmapped._

 

**Author's Note:**

> twitter [@wildkitte](https://twitter.com/wildkitte) tumblr [@wildkittewrites](http://wildkittewrites.tumblr.com/)


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